Barat Master
by vrangr
Summary: Baroque Master, mind you. Governor Weatherby Swann has a new piano shipped from England, and Elizabeth is playing Bach at a small gathering, but though a pianist she may be, someone else is playing Mozrat…slight norriebeth.tried to concentrate on humor.


**Title:** Ba-rat Master

**Author:** Irish Avalon

**Summary:** Governor Weatherby Swann has a new piano shipped from England, and Elizabeth is playing Bach at a small gathering, but though a pianist she may be, someone else is playing Moz-rat…(slight norriebeth.tried to concentrate on humor, though.)

**Pairing:** Very slight (or slight. how would you like it?) JamesxElizabeth

**Rating:** T I guess. I like playing safe. hehe.

**Genre: **some good ol' Humor

**Author's Note:** Squee! I am finally back in business! I had fun writing this fic, and also interacting with authors who have helped me (thanks Babitzka, Ladybug21 and Mysterywriter221, do you realize how much you've helped me? HUGS!)

And yes, Ba-rat Master is supposed to be _Baroque Master_. But I was forced to call it due to the plot of this fic. Squee!

Anyway, I've tried to animate this as much as I could and hope you enjoy!

**Copyright:** Who's copyright? MY copyright?! NO! There must be some mistake, it's all Disney's….

Then perhaps on such a rare occasion, the Governor would call for a tea gathering at the mansion. But isn't also _such_ a rare occasion that the Miss Elizabeth Swann would play the piano?

James Norrington heaved a sigh as he, alone, stood by the parlor door, away from most of the chatter. Though he seemed dutiful, prepared, and _enjoying_ the small festivity, it bored him most greatly. The only thing (or person, shall we say) kept him bright in these parties was Miss Swann, the governor's beautiful daughter, whom James had grown up with only to be a bit older. _Growing up with her, _James smiled. He remembered the first time he had met Elizabeth. He had actually found her to be quite annoying, for the moment James had mentioned the Navy, little Elizabeth, little _annoying_ Elizabeth would follow him, or rather, _stalk him_, wherever he went, just to get a few lessons in sword play. James of course had declined, saying that sword fighting was _not_ for young ladies such as Elizabeth. Though it was true, since Elizabeth had been in her maturing years, while James, just entering the Navy, when he had mentioned such a thing. Elizabeth had still insisted that he teach her. James smiled again as he drowned himself in his own thoughts.

"_I say, James!" Elizabeth laughed, "For such a young age, may I call you a fine swordsman?"_

_James blushed at the statement and cleared his throat, loosening the blue scarf of his uniform, which seemed to be growing tighter and tighter every second, "As I was saying, Miss Swann, hold the hilt-"_

"_Tut, tut," Elizabeth said, "For a Navy man, I would have thought you to have manners enough to answer a _young lady's_ query."_

_James swallowed, "Alright, Miss Swann, you may call me…whatever it is you see fit to call me."_

_Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. James observed the features of her face, her bright eyes, and her dark yet highlighted curls that reached her shoulders. His eyes fell on her lips, where a small but playful smile lingered. James shook his head and held sword in front of him, "Will you be so kind?" he taunted. Elizabeth bit her lip and tried to imitate James's hold on the hilt. The young midshipman sighed in both frustration and amusement at the situation, "No, Miss Swann," said he, "Like this."_

_Elizabeth furrowed her brow. After a few more attempts, James was forced to show her the way he didn't want to. Putting his arms around Elizabeth's small frame, he held her hands gently and let them grasp the hilt, "Like _this_," he said. Elizabeth nodded, "Alright, alright!"_

_James rolled his eyes. Soon, he found himself matching swords with Elizabeth. He was shocked at her good arm, "Lord," he mouthed. Elizabeth blocked his blow and with one final lunge pointed the tip of her sword at James for him to admit defeat. The governor's daughter smirked, "What say you to that, Midshipman?" said she. James nodded stiffly, "Well done, Miss Swann. Now if you'll excuse me, I must head to the docks."_

_But just as James had turned on his heel he felt a light hand on his arm and he turned to be face-to-face with Elizabeth, "James," she said softly," Thank you for the lesson."_

_James smiled, "You're most welcome, Miss-"_

"_And please call me Elizabeth. Don't you think we are more than just acquaintances after all these years of formality since childhood?"_

_James could only stare at Elizabeth when he made a small bow, "It would be an honor, Elizabeth."_

_Elizabeth leaned forward and brushed her lips on his cheek, "Thank you!" she whispered and ran off. James stood wide-eyed as he watched his friend run back to her home. _

It was then that one of the commodore's lieutenants, and good friend apparently, walked up to him and pulled him out of his ponderings, "James!" he said clearly astonished to have found the man alone, and away from the chatter (and the cakes, though he did not _dare_ say) and Miss Elizabeth, "What has brought you here?"

James rolled his eyes under the shade of his hat, "Andrew Gillette, have I ever told you how much I really do not favor being within the sight of Miss Swann?"

Gillette smirked, "No," he said shortly. James wrinkled his nose, a habit of his when he wanted to seem smug, "Well now you know."

"And the reason, I suppose, you would not want to be within Miss Swann's sight is because you turn as colored as the setting sun?"

James glared at the lieutenant, "So it would seem…"

Andrew smirked again, "You have to get back to the party, James," he said, "Firstly, the governor would be wondering where you went off to, and secondly, do you not think it improper to be absent as one of our hosts will entertain us with music?"

James heaved a sigh once more. If Andrew had been serious about him coloring as much as the setting sun, then all the more would he dread having to be _present_ as Miss Swann would entertain them with, possibly, a piece from one of the Baroque masters. Though the thought gave an uncomfortable feeling for James, for he would be considered a disgrace to society, as it demands propriety that would make the most respectable man mad.

"Ah, Commodore!" Governor Swann stood abruptly from his seat as James and Andrew entered the living room, "We were wondering where you went off to."

James smiled at the old man. The man, who seemed more jollier than ever, "Apologies, Governor Swann, I needed some time to ponder over…matters."

The governor chuckled, "Well, not a problem, not a problem. We were just talking about you and your men at the Fort. How do…"

James was not listening. Elizabeth had briefly caught his eye over a book she was reading and gave him one of her brightest smiles. James smiled back. He couldn't seem to look away. It was thank goodness for Andrew who nudged him back to reality, just as the governor was finishing his statements, "…it must be hard work for the marines, don't you think so, Commodore?"

James raised his eyebrows, "Oh, yes, but I assure you, the Marines do more than their best when keeping watch over Port Royal."

It was not long before the commodore found himself in a conversation with Swann about the Fort, new ships at the docks, and how the building of the Interceptor was coming. The Interceptor was to be the newest ship of the fleet, expected to set sail on its first voyage under the admiral in a few month's time, which, James had said, will pass by like winter's night and come quickly.

Elizabeth busied herself with her book. It was nothing better than a good read for she did not consider absence from the small company, but will consider her thoughts to wander off to miles away. Though read she did, her ears opened to the voice of the commodore, and though unintentionally, heard about the new naval ship, the Interceptor. Elizabeth, since her childhood, had been fascinated with ships, pirate or naval, and its builds. At present, she was aware, she was now old enough to ask permission to walk the docks and examine every minute detail of the Interceptor's hull. The last ship Elizabeth remembered setting sail in was the HMS Dauntless, the ship considered the power of the Caribbean waters, and renowned for its firearm. Elizabeth had been on board it from England to Port Royal, Jamaica.

"_James, won't you tell me a story about pirates?"_

_James stopped walking abruptly, "Elizabeth," said he, "I don't think it proper," James had a hint of gentleness in his voice but Elizabeth pressed on, "And why don't you think it proper?"_

"_Because," James furrowed his brow, "You're a young lady now, Elizabeth."_

_Elizabeth frowned, "I've heard that statement from you too many a time," Elizabeth watched as James, her closest friend avoid her eyes. He was promoted to Flag-Lieutenant only a few months ago, and was beginning to take his duties much more seriously, though be that as it may, Elizabeth wondered if it meant James would have to grow distant from her. He only called her by her Christian name for the sake of her request, but Elizabeth knew James would have called her long before by her family name for the sake of propriety._

"_James," said Elizabeth, "Must we be so formal?"_

_James stared at her, "Formal? I call you by your Christian name."_

_Elizabeth shook her head, "For my sake, or yours?"_

_James hesitated. Why had he been calling Elizabeth by her Christian name? Was it by her request, or by own desire as a friend? James sighed, "Alright, Elizabeth," said he, "Have you heard of Jack Sparrow?"_

Elizabeth smiled to herself as she remembered the lieutenant who told her the story of the fearsome Jack Sparrow, the pirate like no other, the one who vanished under the eyes of the seven agents of the East India Trading Company, impersonated a Clergyman of the church, though quite a tall tale it seems to be, and captain of a mysterious vessel of a cursed crew, and black sails, the _Black Pearl_. Elizabeth, after James's story, had dreamed of meeting the fearsome pirate herself, but she knew, with James and the fleet at his heels, and her own father, there was no trying to get to the sea.

It was then when Governor Swann called his daughter to play the grand, the new instrument shipped all the way from England to Port Royal. Elizabeth brought down her book and walked to the stool, where she had already prepared several music sheets from Johann Sebastian Bach, her favored Baroque Master. Elizabeth seated herself daintily and chose a simple piece to play.

James watched with Andrew behind one of the nobles, Lady Mary, who seated herself on one of the small chairs. She looked up at the standing officers and beckoned the commodore to bend forward. James, curious James, bent and the Lady whispered ever most secretively into his ear, "Isn't Miss Swann a fine pianist for her age, commodore?"

James nodded in agreement, "To be true, Lady Mary, to be true."

The Lady frowned at the commodore's straight face, "And a fine young woman as well, do you think not?"

James smirked, "To be true, Lady Mary," said he, "To be very true," and straightened up. For a while James had drowned himself in the music, when he noticed the troubled look on Andrew's face, "Something the matter, lieutenant?"

"Aye, sir," said Andrew, "I believe one of the keys have gone wrong."

It took moments for James to realize that Andrew was referring to the grand. The commodore took a glance at Elizabeth and then at the piano. One of the keys was making a sound it was not supposed to make, even _Miss Swann_ seemed to notice, for her brow was furrowed and a shadow was cast upon her pretty face. James shook his head, "Correct you are, Andrew."

Elizabeth stopped her playing. Her father stared at her from the guests, "Dear," he said, "Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth smiled thoughtfully, "Yes, father," she replied and looked over the music stand of the piano. Alas! A rat, she saw, was gnawing on the finish of the interior piano. Elizabeth gasped, and when she did, the rat looked up at her. Its black eyes widening as it jumped from the chords and onto the floor. It was then that chaos found its way through the mansion. The rat spotted the assortment of cakes on the tea table and made a dash for it, passing under the feet of the guests, including James's. The rat scurried under Lady Mary's petticoat, and the Lady jumped to her feet and screamed with all her lungs could allow. James, as well as the other men in the room, averted his eyes from the disturbing sight. The rat found its way out again and under Andrew's feet. The lieutenant tried to grab it, instead resulted in chasing it to the table. The rat had disappeared under the mantle.

Andrew frowned, "Bloody rat," he muttered. Lady Mary's husband was desperately trying to calm her nerves, for the woman was still over her head and screaming. James stood opposite the table, where he and Andrew would expect the rat to leave if the lieutenant failed to get hold of it, "Sir," Andrew said.

"Lieutenant," James replied. Andrew knelt by the table and slowly lifted the mantle, careful to make as less noise as possible, while the guests held their breath.

_Good God_, thought James, _All this for a rat?_

Andrew had now fully crawled beneath the mantle, all you could see of him was a blue and brocade of a behind under a white sheet. Moments later all heard a yell, or perhaps, a yelp, as the poor man banged his head on the glass table. The rat ran from under the furniture and right into James, who stepped on its tail just in time. The small animal stared with its big eyes at the commodore, its expression that of a Marine if hit right where it hurt. The situation was most amusing to the officer and took his handkerchief from under his sleeve to smuggle the thing under his foot, "And that, my friend," said he, "Is the end of you."

Elizabeth lowered her hand from her mouth, mustering all her strength to contain her giggles at the situation, for she had never, not once in her life, in England or in Jamaica, did she see two officers chase a rat as if it were a pirate. Shortly after the chaotic event, though, James excused himself from the room. Elizabeth hoped he had not made leave, but thought so, for Lieutenant Gillette was still in the room, holding his handkerchief with a chip of ice in it to his hand. Elizabeth quietly approached the man with a warm smile, "Lieutenant, so good to see you!" said she. Andrew was about to rise when Elizabeth sat next to him on the chair. The lieutenant smiled, "A pleasantry to see you as well, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth stared at Andrew's hand, "And what crime has been committed by the rat?" she smiled. Andrew chuckled, "Only whipped his tail on my palm, Miss Swann, just as I was supposed to take hold of it."

Elizabeth nodded, relieved that the lieutenant had not been bitten, "I am grateful of no serious injury, are you not?"

"Most certainly I am."

Elizabeth stood up, "Excuse me lieutenant," said she. Andrew nodded, "By all means, Miss Swann, do whatever task you need to complete!"

_Such a jolly fellow,_ Elizabeth thought and left the room to find James.

James stood by the parlor door, leaning his head tiredly against the wall. He was pondering over the mess at the party, and how idiotic he and his lieutenant had made themselves, _Pride of the Royal Navy_, thought James, _There will be no silencing the Admiral after this._

James heard light feet on the marble floor, "Gillette," he said commandingly, though before he could continue, a gentle hand was laid on his shoulder. James spun around, "Eli- Miss Swann!" he exclaimed, embarrassed, "Forgive, I had thought you were the lieutenant." James bowed sincerely and smiled. Elizabeth shook her head, "Oh, James," she sighed, "What has become of you?"

The statement took James aback, "I beg your pardon?"

Elizabeth smiled slightly, "James, how many times must I ask you, or beg you, to call me by my Christian name?"

James stared at Elizabeth, "I just think-"

"It's not proper?"

Elizabeth was not ashamed if ever she seemed impolite, for cutting the sentence of a naval officer, and a commodore at this situation, was considered so, but for James, he did not mind, "Elizabeth," James began, "We are not children."

Elizabeth stared at him, "Truly, James? I had only noticed! We have been friends for longer than I can remember, and yet, after all these years, we seem less than acquaintances."

Elizabeth looked hurt enough for James to want to kneel on the ground and beg her forgiveness but the commodore stood his ground and sighed, "Than if you truly wish it," James smiled, "Elizabeth."

Elizabeth listened to James as her name escaped his lips, and for the first time since the thousand first times, James owned what he had said. Elizabeth leaned forward and planted a kiss on James's cheek, "Thank you!" she whispered.

James turned as colored as the setting sun.

**Author's Note:** Okaaaay…pretty long oneshot, eh? Oh well, since you've finished reading, please review!


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